My mum, a Filipina, had my and my sister’s ears pierced as babies. We had the tiniest gold studs to match tiny gold baby bangles. The studs soon became hoops, and I haven’t looked back since. I have what I call my “everyday” hoops which I refuse to take out even in the shower or when I go to bed. Then I have a literal shoebox full to the brim with different styles, from a sentimental solid gold pair I’ve had since my teens to a giant, gaudy pair bought from a market stall that turn my lobes green.
The origin of the hoop earring dates as far back as 2500 BC with Sumerian civilisation, located in modern-day Iraq, but they then scattergun across the world with almost every continent birthing some form of hoop earring. From ancient Egypt, Greece and Rome to regional tribes across Africa to Southeast Asia, hoops crafted in everything from bone to precious metals remain symbols of cultural belonging, status, age, and even protection (in Haiti and across the Caribbean a single hoop earring was worn by women as a protective amulet). But for the most part, their primary function has been because they look cool. Hoop earrings are the zenith of the intrinsically human trait of wanting to be adorned.
But, for the beloved modern-day hoop, the cultural impact is a little more fraught. The golden era of Hollywood meant that gleaming, big and bold hoops quickly became markers of an exoticised woman, signifying a dark and feisty alternative to the sweetness and light of say, Grace Kelly. In 1954’s “Legend of the Lost” Sophia Loren plays a woman with a dubious past and fondness for pickpocketing styled as (what I can only imagine the costume department asked for) a “sexy gypsy”, with giant hoop earrings and off the shoulder tops. Similarly, Rita Moreno spoke of her frustration, prior to “West Side Story”, of being typecast as the spicy Latina girl, including her turn as a singer in “Garden Of Evil” complete with, you guessed it, hoops, “gypsy” styling and an accent. As the decades progressed from the Sixties and Seventies, there have been Afrocentric hoops, Mexican cholas black lip-liner and teardrop hoops, through to hip-hop’s doorknocker earrings. The visibility of hoops in pop culture consciousness is thanks, overwhelmingly, to women of colour. And that’s when the situation becomes knotty: when they are treated as stage costume or fashion fad, rather than cultural.
In the New York Times, writer Sandra E. Garcia responded to a group of Latinx artists spray-painting a mural emblazoned with “White girl, take off your hoops”. She wrote about how she felt “that wearing large hoops would make me stand out, make me seem too loud, too visible, too ghetto, too black.” It’s easy to brand this as an overreaction. However during a recent furore around infant ear piercing, sparked by a viral Facebook post of a mother taking her baby girl to have her ears pierced, it came with not only cries of child abuse, but not so subtle racial undertones. So strong is the association with The Other or “ghettoisation” of hoop earrings that hand-wringing mums on the internet were willing to jump erroneously from infant ear piercing to hoop earrings, branding them as the gateway to hard drugs and promiscuity.
While we can tread on dangerous territory using a sweeping hand to say that all sharing of cultures is in itself problematic, it is important to recognise when the originators of cherry-picked cultural elements are treated differently. Marc Jacobs twice fell at this hurdle when he sent largely ethereal, white models down the runway in dreadlocks and then dressed them with Salt-N-Pepa-esque hoop earrings, responding to both critiques with belligerence. In contrast, the maximalist fashion houses of the world: Versace, Cavalli, Fendi – have always had the slight edge over other institutions by dressing and championing women of colour.
So, though the humble hoop may seem ubiquitous today, the most dedicated wearers will benefit from appreciating this jewellery stalwart’s rich history. Next time you’re flexing with your favourite hoops, give a mental thanks to the women who flexed them first.
This article was taken from our summer issue, SLEEK 58. Get your copy here!